A Glimpse Into The Future
by elenwyn
Summary: The brunette stirred softly, eyelids fluttering as she began to regain consciousness. If Peter didn’t know better, he’d think she was asleep. If he was living five years ago, he’d also think she was an innocent girl. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3. One-shot.


**A.N: **I wrote this last night after a day of non-stop fic writing. It's an idea that came into my head after watching a certain scene from a certain first episode of the third season ;) Basically, these are my theories about, (if you've been keeping up with the spoilers) Future!Claire's behaviour and how she turned a little crazy.

This could be taken as platonic Paire, or romantic Paire, whatever your preference is.

**VERY SPOILERY FOR SEASON 3. THIS STORY INCLUDES SPOILERS AND SPECULATION FOR WHAT MIGHT HAPPEN, SO PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW.**

This is just a little scene that, in my mind, could happen between Paire in the future scenes. I saw part of the leaked ep and the whole "I always loved you" scene was there, so everything, including why Claire's a little cuckoo and why she might want to shoot Peter, whirred around in my head and I came up with this :) Hope you enjoy!

**Warnings/Disclaimer: **Again, **very spoilery for Season 3**. You have been warned. I don't own Heroes, I'm just messing around with the characters. It all belongs to Tim Kring and NBC.

And once more, just to be on the safe side, **SPOILERS **from this point onwards : )

--

The brunette stirred softly, eyelids fluttering as she began to regain consciousness. If Peter didn't know better, he'd think she was asleep. If he was living five years ago, he'd also think she was an innocent girl.

The woman lying on the bed now was nothing more than a shadow of her former self, twisted up inside by some unknown force, some sort of evil nature that had uprooted her once loving persona and buried itself there instead. This was the girl who had killed and had been killed, was both predator and prey and Peter, though he had once sworn to protect her, now had no idea what to do.

The second her eyes opened, she shot from the bed, forcing Peter to pin her arms down with telekinetic force.

"Let me go!" She yelled, trying in vain to struggle against invisible bonds.

"What, so you can shoot me again?" His tone was immediately cold, "I don't think so." With a flick of his hand, she was released and collapsed against the bed with a 'thump', glaring at him.

"Now," He said slowly, seating himself on the opposite side of the bed, watching her, "We're going to talk."

"How's changing the world going?" Claire spat out, eyes burning through him underneath locks of dark hair, "'Cause at the moment, I can't tell the difference. Or is it one of those subtle things?"

Peter frowned, "I'm working on it. Things _will_ change, it's –"

"Oh, don't give me that," She sneered, "Nothing will change. Nothing _you_ do will ever make things change."

He watched as her form shuddered ever so slightly, and she turned away from him. Part of him wanted to reach out to her, but he knew she'd recoil from his touch.

Things weren't the same as they used to be.

"Then tell me what will," He pressed urgently, trying to get through to her, "Tell me what happened, Claire, and I'll make sure it changes. I'll stop whatever it is –"

A cold laugh came from the woman opposite him, "You'll _change_ things, Peter? You'll _stop_ it?" She swung back round to face him, face riddled with emotion, "You damn well _knew_ what happened but you stayed silent. You didn't stop it!"

All he could do was stare, not willing himself to speak as she continued.

"I _trusted _you," She spat frostily; "I thought you were different from the others. That you actually _cared_. But you knew all along where I was and what was happening, didn't you, Peter? You knew because your mother organised it and you kept your mouth shut! You let her carry on!"

Her voice rose to a yell as hot, angry tears threatened to fall down her face, "They cut me up into little bits to watch me put myself back together, again and again. _I was still alive when they did it_. And you _knew_!"

Claire's whole body shook with anger, and Peter was ready to use force again if she tried to attack him. He swore mentally; he forgot to ask if Hiro had checked her pockets for weapons, he didn't want to get into a fight right now.

The young woman took a deep, shuddering breath, looking down, and seconds later she moved her head upwards, cool and composed, "Go ahead and change all you want, Peter. You can never change the fact that I _despise_ you."

With that, she turned away from him fully, lying on one side of the bed. Knowing talking to her would prove fruitless at this time, Peter stood, a heavy heart inside of him. His heart wanted to apologise, but his head wanted to get the answers he needed.

"I'll come back when you're more willing to talk."

--

He'd left her for a whole day before coming back. He wasn't even sure if she'd been given any food. Sighing to himself, and half-praying she'd be asleep, he opened the door, trying to act as authoritive as possible.

Claire was facing the door, eyes open. As soon as she spotted him, however, she turned around, and Peter closed his eyes, wishing he didn't have to deal with this situation. He had only ever tried to do the right thing, and he'd ended up hurting the people he'd cared about most.

"Today, Claire, you're going to let me talk. And you're going to listen."

"What makes you think I will?" She muttered, acting more like a petulant child than a woman capable of atrocious damage.

He glared at her back, pushing his temper down. It wouldn't do to get angry just yet.

"I have to know who you're working for, Claire, and why you're doing this. It's not the Company, who is it?"

She let out a huff, refusing even to answer, and Peter was running out of patience.

"I'm trying to save our kind from being hunted; I'm trying to make this all better. I know I've done some horrible things, Claire, but what about you? You're a killer!"

He watched her body flinch, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. He sat down on the other side of the bed again, staring at the opposite wall, "Whatever happened to you in that facility didn't justify you killing your own family. Your father, who'd only ever tried to protect you, your mother, your brother? What kind of person does that, Claire? That makes you just as bad, no, worse even, than me."

Peter turned to look at her, and was irritated when she seemed unresponsive. He sighed heavily, resting his head on the pillows. He'd have to try a different tactic.

They sat in silence for a while, both collecting their thoughts, and Peter had to again marvel at the stark difference between this Claire and the one from the past. Seeing golden haired, innocent Claire had been such a shock for him going back. It seemed like a millennia since she was that girl, and he desperately wanted to get her back again.

His heart felt like a dead weight inside his throat; he knew what he had to do, he just didn't want to bring himself to do it.

Shuffling on the bed slightly, he glanced over to Claire, who was still silent next to him, "Do you…do you remember Christmas in New York?"

At first, she was silent, but then he heard a small, "No."

"Of course you do," He carried on, trying to paint the picture for himself, "The boys would go up to the nursery to play with their new toys, Heidi would sit and chat with her friends on the phone, Nathan would sit in the den with a scotch and Ma would go into the sitting room and listen to music for a while. Do you remember what we did?"

"No," She said again, and Peter's frustration flared up again.

"Yes you do," He bit back, voice rising without meaning to. How could she forget those times? "Tell me. _Tell me._"

Slowly, he watched as she turned on her back, staring up the ceiling. In a soft, almost shaky voice, she whispered, "We…went up to the top of the mansion. To the guest room that had…windows on the ceiling so we could watch the snow fall and pretend it was falling on us."

Peter almost smiled, "Go on. What did we talk about?"

Claire faltered, biting her lip, "About…about Texas, and New York. About how different it was…about our families…about…"

"About how you missed your mom and dad?" Peter questioned, that cold tone coming back into play, "How you couldn't wait to see them again at New Year, how your mom had phoned you at 6am just so you could pretend to be there as they opened their presents?"

He didn't have to look at her to know she was crying now, and he made himself have no sympathy as he grabbed her by the arm roughly and made her face him, their faces inches apart.

"If you could go back, Claire, to that day, would you kill them right then and there? Would you have even thought about it? Would you?"

She shook her head, tears falling thick and fast, "No, no, I'd change things…I'd change…I…"

Peter closed his eyes as she clung to the front of his shirt, burying her head in his chest. He sighed shakily, stroking her long, dark hair, "It's alright," he soothed, "Shush, Claire. I'm here. It's alright."

Slowly, with deliberation, he reached with his free hand to the gun tucked inside his jacket, still with one hand wrapped around Claire.

"It's alright," He continued, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he bought the gun behind her head.

She gave the first hint of a smile he'd seen in years, eyes that were still glittering with tears gazing up at him with love that had long been missing.

"Claire?" He whispered as he positioned the pistol at that pivotal point at the back of her head.

"Yeah?"

"I always loved you too."


End file.
